A werewolf in the Watch
by mirrorballsymphony
Summary: Sam Vimes is fine with dwarfs. He's fine with trolls. He can even tolerate humans occasionally. But the undead, no, just no. So, how can he be expected to have one of them in the Watch?


Sam Vimes thought of himself as a tolerant man. True, he didn't much like humans, but dwarfs, he was fine with. Trolls, great...men, as long as you kept them out of the sunlight.

But he would admit he had a thing about the undead. More of a hatred.

This was what Vetinari had ordered though, wasn't it? One dwarf, one troll and one undead, to represent the ethnic minorities. Or, as Sergeant Colon would mutter under his breath, ethnic majorities in some areas of the city. But why an undead?

A vampire sure as hell wasn't going to be in the Watch. Not over his dead body. And the rest of the undead, bogeymen and the like, weren't really practical.

'A werewolf it is then, Captain,' Vetinari had said cheerfully. 'And luckily for you, I have a candidate already.'

Vimes had to admit he was expecting the worst; some giant hairy monster that looked like they were going to rip out your jugular with the slightest provocation...

What he wasn't expecting was a fairly attractive young woman who looked...well, looked human.

He extended a hand. 'Captain Vimes.'

'Angua von Überwald,' she replied, shaking it. Vimes noted the distinct lack of an Überwaldean accent, but didn't comment.

He gestured to a chair. 'Please, sit down. Would you like a drink?'

'Just water, please.'

As Vimes was pouring the drink he cursed himself for being shocked. What else would she look like apart from human?

The tiny core of him which was screaming at the rest was telling him that of _course_ she looked human, right up until the moment where she leapt at him.

'Captain Vimes,' Angua said amicably from behind him, 'I'm not going to rip your throat out.'

Vimes span round. 'What made you think I was going to say that?' he asked weakly.

She shrugged. 'It's what most people think. So it's better to get it over and done with.'

'Right,' he said slowly.

'I'm actually a vegetarian.' He raised his eyebrows, and Angua laughed. 'Ironic, isn't it?'

'Why?'

'Tends to put people off. The whole ripping-out-veins doesn't make you very popular.'

He handed her the drink and she gulped it quickly.

'You don't need to be nervous,' he said kindly.

'Sorry. Most people don't know I'm a werewolf, and I usually prefer them not to know.'

'We're open to all species in the Watch.'

'I saw that coming up the stairs,' Angua remarked.

He grinned. 'I thought Nobby was on patrol.'

'Nobby. Good name.'

'It's without a k.'

'Really? Are you sure?'

There was a polite knock on the door. 'Come in, Carrot,' Vimes called.

Carrot, stopping a little, entered the room and put some paper on Vimes's desk. He smiled at Angua. 'Hello.'

'Angua's here from Vetinari,' Vimes told him.

'What?' Angua exclaimed.

'I see,' Carrot said. 'A woman in the Watch. That's a novel idea.'

Angua was watching Carrot carefully. There was no indication, none whatsoever, that that statement contained anything other than friendliness.

'Well, I'll be seeing you around,' Carrot said cheerfully. 'Good luck.'

'Thanks. See you.'

Angua smiled, and was surprise to see that Carrot blushed and quickly left.

Vimes had been watching the girl. 'He's a simple lad, Carrot is.'

'I can see.'

He decided not to comment on the fact that Angua's face was slightly flushed. 'So, where do you currently live?'

'Mrs Cake's, down at Elm Street.'

'How long have you been in the city?'

'A couple of weeks. I used to live in Quirm.'

'Why did you leave?'

Angua raised her eyebrows. 'Call it a misunderstanding.'

'What?'

'Oh, I didn't do anything,' she said quickly. 'I was a scapegoat.'

'Right. And are you currently in a relationship?'

'No. Not at the moment.'

'And why do you want to be in the Watch?'

'Why wouldn't I want to be in the Watch?' Angua asked hastily.

Vimes kept his face blank, but was cheering her on insider his head. 'What makes you say that?'

'Your tone of voice,' she hazarded.

'We'll put that down as 'career opportunities', I think.' Vimes scribbled something on the piece of paper in front of him. 'How old are you again?'

'Seventeen.'

'Quite young,' Vimes commented, and was impressed at the blankness on the girl's face. 'You're the same age as Carrot.'

She flushed again.

'Well, seeing as you're our only applicant who's...undead, you've got the job.'

She smiled bitterly. 'Got some sort of criteria to fill, have you? From the Patrician?'

'Something like that, yes.' Vimes leaned back on his chair and looked straight at the girl. 'So, help me with a question. Purely unprofessional, I assure you. Why are you here?'

She returned his look. 'A new start.'

'From what?'

'Oh, you know, this and that.' She waved a hand abstractly in the air, as if it didn't matter. 'It's not really easy being a werewolf.'

'How do you mean!'

Angua ran a hand through her hair distractedly. 'Well, you're never...you don't belong anywhere. You can't fit in. I mean, I look human, that surprised you, but I'm not. And all people ever see is the differences.'

Vimes nodded. 'Well, no one has to know. If you don't want them to.'

'I'd prefer that.'

'I would say that you could move into the Watch barracks, but I figure you're happier at Mrs Cake's.'

'She's very...understanding.'

'How is Reg Shoe?'

'The zombie? Oh, he's fine. Keeps trying to make me join whatever club it is that he runs.'

'Oh, the Fresh Start Club. They're the biggest public nuisance in the city.'

'I saw the graffiti. But I'd rather keep it private, if you don't mind. I don't want any sort of sympathy.'

Vimes smiled briefly. 'You'll report for duty at eleven pm tomorrow. We'll give you your armour and everything then.'

'Thanks.'

As she walked out of the room Vimes looked down at what he had written in his notebook:

What happened to her?

And then:

Don't tell Carrot.

Well, he thought, everyone deserves a chance.


End file.
